Chapter One: New Superstar Model

Flash! Flash! The camera flash bulbs flicker in my eyes, blinding me for a split second. "That'll be all for today. Thank you for your time, Mr. Jinn." The producer of magazine, Teen Dream, says, glancing down at a datapad in his hand.

I smile politely and make my way out of the studio. 'Might as well go home to the kids.' I think as I head over to the car, specifically, a Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, little Ahsoka will be put down for her nap by Satine, the kind woman who decided to babysit her and her older, adopted brother Anakin.

I start the ignition and backing out of the parking lot, make my way to my apartment complex that I shared with my husband, Quin. He died in a car accident four years ago, and I got severely injured. It still hurts when I let myself think about it.

Suddenly, a dog darts out into the road. If it hadn't been for the owner rushing out to grab it, I never would've slammed on the brakes. I undo my seatbelt and rush out, crying in alarm, "Oh my god, I am so sorry! Are you okay?! I'm really sorry, I didn't see your dog rush out into the street."

The young man, about mid-twenties to early thirties, glances up at me. I inhale sharply. He's gorgeous. He has jet black hair; chocolate-colored eyes with a three-shaped scar crossing over his left eye; and he's a little over six feet in height. He's wearing a black jacket tied around his waist; an orange short sleeve t-shirt; ripped - at the knees - black jeans; and black-and-white Converse sneakers. Yeah, he's definitely hot.

"Oh, that's okay. At least you didn't run her over." He says, then turning his direction to the dog, scolds, "Maybelle, don't you ever do that again. You could've gotten run over."

A couple of other guys rush over to ask if the dog's okay. "Thank you for stopping when you did. You have just saved my son's life."

Confused, I ask, "I don't mean to be rude, but what does that mean?"

"Well, before we tell you, will you please come into our house?" The older of the three, quite possibly the father asks. "There, my other boys can assess you of any injuries."

Politely, I accept. Their apartment is very modest, but large in size. The moment I walk in, I'm greeted with a large living area with a couple sofas of various sizes, a television stand with an eighty-inch flat-screen T.V; beside the living room is the dining area with a large white marble-looking top, along with the island, and countertops. I decide not to go exploring any further.

"Okay, before we go in-depth as to why you saved my son's life, let us introduce ourselves. I am Jango Fett, and these are my boys from oldest to youngest: Tix, Kix, Rex, Cody, and Boba."

"Oh, I'm very familiar with Rex. He was my attorney when the accident happened." I respond, then turning my attention to the young attorney, I wave, "Hey, Rex."

"Ben!" He cries in delight, hugging me, "How're you doing after Quin's death?"

"Well, it still hurts because, well, I loved him. But I'm doing just fine other than that."

He looks at the oversized sweater I'm wearing and asks, "Is that Quin's?"

I nod and he places a hand on my shoulder. "Hey, I'm not judging. It's your choice whether or not you get to wear his sweater."

"I don't want to be rude, or anything, but who's Quin?"

I wince slightly at Cody's question. Rex does the same. He knows I don't like hearing his name. "Well, Quin…he was…my husband." I reply, "But he died four years ago in a terrible car accident. I made it out alive, but he didn't. I got severely hurt in the accident, but it's healed now."

"I-I'm so sorry. I-I didn't know." Cody stammers. I smile and forgive him. After all, he couldn't have known.

"Okay, now that that's out of the way, please tell me how I save your son's life."

"Well, you see, he's recently been diagnosed with severe depression, and the dog sniffing you right now is his service animal. Her name is Maybelle. She's not on duty right now because I always keep Cody in my eyesight." Jango says. "However, because you saved my boy's life, we would like to repay you."

I smile but decline, "There's no need. I did it only out of instinct." I carefully extend my hand for the german shepherd to sniff. She licks my hand.

Jango reclines back into his chair. "That means she likes you." He says, smiling. Then he adds, "Well, we can allow you to stay over for dinner. That's the least we can do."

I smile and say, "I think that'd be fine."